Connecting with God through poetic articulations of lived, embodied experience–engaging texts from the Revised Common Lectionary for Christian churches, other biblical and spiritual texts, and evocations of the divine in rituals and other public events–always accepting lived reality as a primary source of divine revelation and mystery.

Listening

Reflections on Proper 7, Third Sunday after Pentecost, Year A

He was raking in 10 million in leanest years, celebrated for Midas ways with stocks, his counsel sought by all who wanted more and more even as he felt less and less, waking at night with scenes of gaunt-faced children watching him as he ate at Sardi’s and the White House. He cried, he prayed, went to church every day, gave away millions to hungry kids everywhere , still the money piled up mocking his nightmares, misery and guilt.

Hurrying from one meeting to the next, he heard a street evangelist quoting Jesus, “Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” He was stopped, unable to move, I want to lose this life—the voice sounded like his— no more capital gains no house in the Hamptons no private jet. He cried, right on Wall Street. People stared, others averting their gaze, most kept their distance as he tore at his Armani uniform thrusting his coat, then his tie, shirt, shoes, pants at gaping tourists and brokers, “I don’t need these, please take them, in the name of God,” he said, and hearing himself thought, where did that come from? Who said that?

He looked around, as if seeing the street for the first time, now knowing what he had to do. He remembered hearing a preacher say following a divine call is rarely easy, Jeremiah and Jesus surely knew, friends and family, authorities too turn away, turn against, the loneliness can overwhelm even in the embrace of God.

But he felt raised up, resurrection-like, his mind racing, his heart at peace, beat of new life beckoning him to become a disciple, a student of the Lord, gentle Jesus whom he knew also said some hard either/or words about not bringing peace setting children against parents foes arising in the household hierarchies of teachers above disciples seeming normal but masters over slaves grate against modern ears can we love Jesus more than mother and father, what about God?

He thought, I love God most of all, and I want to serve with Jesus and the Holy Spirit; this is my ‘I can’t not do it moment’ I heard my pastor describe, when he knew he was called to share the Good News: God’s total, unending, unconditional love.

Naked as Francis long ago, he saw the church and went inside to pray and to listen for further instruction.

About this poem. . . So many of the really cool people in the Bible show us that following God is not a necessarily smooth way, that the challenges can be huge, daunting . Upending a life is best done with divine direction and that can come in all sorts of ways to all sorts of people. Jeremiah and Jesus, two prophets who had hard things to say because they listened so carefully to God, surely must have felt, from time to time at least, why me? Of course, God’s answer to them, as to us, is, who else?

Reflection on the Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year A

It’s not just wolves that cause sheep to run in the wrong direction, fellow sheep do, too; some wolves pretend to be shepherds (see Sunday morning cable).

A good shepherd is needed in personal and community life, especially if we seek a world where people care for one another, where works and blessings of God are manifest.

Church is best known by its relationship with the Shepherd the earliest disciple-sheep knew, loved, and followed, but there are churches where he might not be welcome when he approves of selling their possessions and goods, and distributing proceeds to those in need.

Sounds un-American, socialist even— how we want to claim religion to support what we already do, who we already are, planting our national flag in God’s house as if God cares about lines on a map.

Following the Shepherd means going where he goes, not necessarily where we have been or want to go, trusting he knows where water and food are, how to avoid wolves and other dangers, protecting us and our lambs.

Abundant life is the promise, we do not want when we let him lead us there.

About this poem . . . All we like sheep have gone astray, haunting words from Isaiah and melody from Handel, point to the need for not just a leader but the Shepherd of the shepherds. The payoff is huge, but we cannot know for sure what it will look like, or how we will get there.

Reflection on the Third Sunday of Easter, Year A

He always says “Good morning,” “Good afternoon” or simple “Hello” as he meets others on walks. “You never know what someone may want to tell you, so I like to prepare the way with courtesy and care,” he said in response to a friend who asked him about his habit. “It might be Jesus out for a walk, or someone else God has tapped with a message for me. Besides,” he continued, “I believe each of us is created in the image of God, so when I greet someone I feel I am greeting part of God. I really appreciate when God answers back.”

“Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, you just never know when a conversation will change your life,” he said. “One thing is sure, if you don’t engage others, the conversation will not happen. I am not in charge of which conversations God may use so I try to be open all the time.”

“Here’s the deal,” he said, “we pray often for God to be present. I wonder how God feels about that, when in my experience God already is here and now, everywhere, all the time. There is no place, no time, God is not; I figure my job is to be present, so God can get through to me when God wants. I even speak to some trees, the squirrels, flowers, birds. You just never know. Like those disciples, I might get a message from the food I eat—that’s why I give thanks, not just physical nourishment but also spiritual feeding. Anything, everything, is possible with God.”

About this poem . . . As a boy, I remember wondering what it must have felt like for the disciples walking on the road to Emmaus to be engaged by, and to engage, Jesus. Later, thanks to some wonderful spiritual teachers and moments of my own, I began a lifelong journey into understanding I can experience that closeness, too. I am still learning, and receiving.

A reflection for Advent 4, Year A

The conception not socially approved, an inauspicious start to marriage where the rule is the man’s right to be the first, but as we know this plays out differently. Joseph listens to God and the world is never the same. Is that not true every time we listen to God? Joseph, sainted Joseph, did not ask to raise a child technically not his, but what does that mean, not his? He claimed the baby, raised him in his trade, made sure he learned the Torah, respected his elders even when he knew more. This was a good father raising a blessed son.

The child was from the Holy Spirit; many wonder though If that means immaculate conception, parthogenesis, procreation without fertilization, or whether it means God’s blessing does not depend on following human rules. Is not every wanted child a gift from the Holy Spirit? Is a marriage license required by God for the child’s holiness? Can non-monogamous partners not give life to a blessed child? We spend so much energy trying to bend God to us when what Joseph, and so many others, show us is that God breaks rules, our rules, all the time.

We cannot contain God; if we could, God would not be God but god, an idol of our creation, the Creator being creature. We are wondrously made in God’s image, probably imagesin reality, not the other way around no matter our endless efforts to tell God who God is. The greatest spiritual gift is listening, a way of life requiring constant cultivation in order to defeat human need for control, and that means truly hearing and following what God says, including hard stuff, the counter-cultural directions and guidance, love bursting through and beyond all human restrictions.